


That tethered mind free from the lies

by ohfreckle



Series: Wrap my flesh in ivory [1]
Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bloodplay, Bodily Fluids, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Intersexuality, Jotun!Loki, Knifeplay, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Snowballing, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>„So tell me, husband mine,“ Loki murmurs after they part for air, taking one of Thor’s hands and guiding it down between his legs. „Do you fuck as gloriously as you fight? Because there also is the matter of an heir and as it seems, my time of heat has come early.“</p><p>Thor moans at the wetness he feels there, slicking not only Loki’s inner thighs but also dampening the length of elaborately patterned silk Loki wears wrapped around hips instead of the Jotuns’ customary loincloth. The length of Loki’s cock is hard against Thor’s wrist, large and already sticky with his pre-spending, but when Thor strokes lower his fingers meet the wet folds of a woman’s sex instead of the smooth expanse of skin he expects to find there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That tethered mind free from the lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [versy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/versy/gifts).



„Another! Wine, my friends, we need more wine!“

Thor slams his cup down on the table, not caring that it is still half full and the finest wine of Asgard’s cellars sloshes over the golden rim and spills over his hand, soaking the sleeve of his tunic. Tonight he has not a single care. The feast is loud and merry, he has his friends with him and his lap full with a comely wench with an ample bosom. What more could a prince ask for?

Hilde —or is it Hilda? Thor can’t remember, it has been too many cups since she came and slid on his lap with a coy smile.Hilde giggles when Thor slides a hand under her skirts and winds her arms tightly around his neck, offering her plump lips for a kiss Thor only too willingly grants.

Another cup of wine slams onto the table and topples over with a heavy thud. Loki, the royal consort and Thor’s newly wedded husband, is sitting next to Thor, watching as the dark red wine spreads slowly over the table and drips onto the single garment covering his loins. His face is impassive, his rigid posture the only indication that something is amiss.

It is enough to clear the haze of spirits from Thor’s mind. Despite the two moons of their marriage Thor still feels ill at ease in Loki’s presence. He wishes he could blame Loki for it and not his own foolishness. He’d been blinded by fury when Odin had brought Loki to Asgard after a fortnight of negotiations with Laufey, announcing that Thor and Loki were to be wed within five days to preserve peace between Asgard and Jotunheim. Thor had raged like a warrior possessed by Hyrui and cursed Laufey and his monstrous race of frost giants, right there in the throne room with Loki standing next to Odin, the same blank expression he is wearing now on his face.

Their wedding night was… Thor has no memories of what happened that night. He had been drunk as a roaring Bilchsteim, waking next to a very naked and sleeping Loki who looked nothing like the frost giants Thor had met and slain in combat. He was smaller and slighter in build, only about Thor’s own height. His limbs were slender and graceful instead of thick and stocky, his hair an inky black and artfully braided where usually his kin had no hair at all. He looked alien, exotic and, now that Thor’s sleep-muddled senses were not clouded by jaundice, strikingly beautiful. Thor had reached out to trace the intricate raised lines on his face the exact moment Loki opened his eyes, their red color a stark contrast to the dusky blue of his skin. Thor, cursed fool that he is, had fled his wedding bed without a stitch of clothing, scandalizing the maids and servants going about their business in the palace hallways.

Needless to say, Loki had not taken well to it. He attends meals and festivities as befitting a royal consort, but spends his days hidden away in the library, brooding over dusty tomes, and wandering the extensive palace gardens. Thor himself has taken to drinking even more than his wont, drowning his sorrows in the evenings and pretending that no wedding has taken place during his days. He never claimed to be a wise man.

„It seems that I need to change,“ Loki says, his voice cutting through Thor’s gloomy contemplation. „Thor, would you accompany me to our chambers and assist me?“

Thor blinks slowly, unsure what startles him more, Loki’s request or Hilda’s shrieking laughter right next to his ear.

„Surely you can dress yourself,“ she laughs, her voice loud and derisive. „Thor and I, we have unfinished business to attend.“

Loki whips his head around strikingly fast. „I said,“ he hisses, baring his teeth at Hilda, „that I wish to be accompanied by my husband. Are you so short-witted that you cannot even comprehend such simple words, foolish wench?“His eyes are flashing an angry red, changing his looks from merely exotic to wild and feral. Thor cannot blame Hilda for scrambling from his lap as fast as a cat doused with water, retreating hastily with a muttered string of „I am sorry, my lord.“

Already there are whispers in the dining hall, people staring openly at the royal table. Thor, who for once has no wish to draw even more of his people’s attention, stands and offers his arm to Loki who rises gracefully and accepts, placing a cool hand on Thor’s upper arm.

~

The walk to Loki’s chambers is silent, Loki’s touch, despite its coolness, like a brand on Thor’s arm. Now that Thor thinks of it, this is the first time they touch since that night. Next to him Loki looks calm and collected, regal with his back straight and his head held high. But the tight grip of his fingers and the slight tremors Thor can feel running through his body speak differently. Loki is restless, wound tight with barely controlled tension. If Loki's looks can deceive this easily, what else has Thor missed?

„It was unkind of you to scare her so,“ Thor says as they approach Loki’s chambers. Thor may have no knowledge about royal etiquette in Jotunheim, but Loki is a prince of Asgard now and as such needs to understand that the Aesir treat their people with kindness.

„Unkind in the same way she tried to fuck my husband right in front of me and half of the realm? Or unkind like said husband, showing the whole court how much more desirable even a common servant wench is than a jotun prince?“

There is no accusation in Loki’s words, only mild curiosity, and yet they make Thor step back as if Loki hit him. The bitter taste of truth in them cuts deeper than Freyr’s sword. Thor is not a gentle man, a warrior hardened by a life spent on countless battlefields, but he usually has no taste for such mindless cruelty.

„I am very sorry and beg your forgiveness,“ he says solemnly and rubs a hand over his face, feeling suddenly very tired. He cannot read Loki, doesn’t know what is expected of him— by Loki, his father, his people. If somebody would ask he would have to admit that it scares him.

„You’re sorry,“ Loki repeats tonelessly, waving the door to his rooms open with just a flick of his wrist.

Even with Thor's honed warrior instincts there is no time to react. One second Thor watches Loki’s hand and forearm give way to a long blade of ice, a familiar sight from remembered battles but unsettling enough to distract him in his own home, the next he is pinned to the inside of the door by Loki, the blade pressed tightly to his throat. Thor curses himself inwardly for slipping like this, every warrior’s highest imperative of constant vigilance forgotten so easily. Freya’s tits, he underestimated Loki like a blundering fool.

„You really don’t know anything, do you,“ Loki says softly, cupping Thor’s cheek with his remaining hand. „I thought you were being deliberately cruel, a brute incapable to think of anything but how to fight and fuck, but that’s not how it is, isn’t it. Not at all.“

„Odin, your _precious Allfather_ , he didn’t tell you anything.“

The ice presses deeper and Thor feels the skin of his throat give way, sliced open like a ripe peach. The cut is shallow, but it burns, a hot and searing pain unlike anything Thor has ever felt. It is gone as fast as it came, a slight flicker of green Thor can see out of the corner of his eyes the only sign that Loki must have used seiðr to heal the cut. His husband not only knows how to trick a warrior, he’s a sorcerer as well. Freya’s tits, indeed, Thor has missed a lot of things.

„Do you know that the peace treaty is only effective if our marriage is consummated?“

Another shallow cut, right under the first one, only this time Loki does not heal it and lets the pain linger. Thor thinks he could easily overpower Loki, but he holds himself still. It’s entirely possible that he deserves this for humiliating Loki in public (although that is a matter he would rather not dwell on), and his slowly returning wit tells him that letting Loki have his say will maybe teach him more about Loki’s intentions.

„Your precious Asgard is only safe from Jotunheim’s army because I wish it so.“

The words cut sharper than the blade pressed against Thor’s flesh.

„Why? Why would you do that after the way I’ve wronged you?“ he croaks, shamed and embarrassed by the unspoken truth of their wedding night and its unforeseen consequences. Thor has no proof of what happened that night, memories lost to wine, mead and rage. But he does not doubt that Loki is speaking the truth and Thor failed to fulfill his duty and protect his people.

„Because I have no quarrel with Asgard and my hate for Laufey keeps me from conceding that the man I chose has no taste for me.“

„Stop speaking in riddles,“ Thor growls, tiring of this game they play already. „How can you hate Laufey, he is your father.“

He wants to laugh the moment the words leave his lips. Has he not cursed Odin often enough, the cruel old man? Doesn’t he have reason to hate his father, too, the blood trickling slowly down his throat proof once again for the sacrifices Odin forces him to make?

„Yes, Thor, he’s my father, how could I possibly hate him. You tell me,“ Loki says silkily, stroking his thumb over Thor’s cheek.

„I am his firstborn, by right of birth I should be king one day. And yet it was I, the runt, the useless halfling, who was trained to be married away for the greater good of the realm, to please any spouse chosen for me like a common whore.“

Thor wants to ask what is the meaning of this, what Laufey has done to his own son. But then the blade travels lower, cutting easily through his simple tunic, the water melting from it prickling over Thor’s heated skin until there is that sharp pain again, consuming all thought he has left.

When Thor looks down there is a wide gash in the meat of his chest, blood flowing freely and painting the white of Loki’s blade of ice crimson red.

„Did Odin tell you that I was promised to Balder? That I demanded to be given to you instead, the mighty warrior whose legendary prowess in the bedroom is only surpassed by his prowess on the battlefield?“ Loki’s tongue is surprisingly warm when it snakes out to lap at the blood on Thor’s chest, the sight of it so maddeningly arousing that Thor has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from moaning aloud.

„Why would you do such a thing,“ Thor rasps. „You did not even know me.“ It is not lost on him that Loki didn’t know Balder either, but he wants to hear it from Loki’s own lips, why Loki chose _him_.

„Ah, but I have seen you. Slaying my own kin on the planes of Jotunheim, slaying _Laufey’s people_ ,“ Loki says sharply, smiling up at him from where he is still suckling the wound on Thor’s chest. His lips are stained red with Thor’s blood and there is a blush on his cheeks that Thor has never seen before, dark like the wine they spilled what seems so long ago. Loki is like a predator feasting on him, beautiful and wild, and Thor feels himself harden at the sight.

„You were magnificent, striking down those who never accepted me and despise me for what I am. How could I not choose you, the future king who will put me on a throne one day even if I cannot rule my own people.“

„Such cunning and deviousness,“ Thor murmurs with grudging admiration for such a well-crafted plan. The Allfather often mocks him that strength and honor alone do not make a good king, that Thor lacks the necessary ability for scheming and negotiating. But with Loki at his side — maybe they aren’t such a bad match after all.

For the first time in weeks Thor feels like he is treading on safer ground now and he relaxes against the door at his back. He winds a hand in Loki’s hair, the strands and thin braids that are woven through it surprisingly soft against his palm. The fact that Thor touches him willingly for the first time is not lost on Loki. He flashes Thor a small smile, wicked and sharp, like he wants to tell him _now, was it really that hard_ and curls his tongue around Thor’s nipple to lap at the blood he finds there.

„I wonder why Odin gave in so easily,“ Loki muses, straightening up so he can brush his lips over the cut on Thor’s throat that is still bleeding sluggishly, once again healing him with quick flashes of green. The gash on Thor’s chest closes with a prickling sensation, leaving his skin once again unmarred. Loki strokes his hand over it, the blade gone but the tips of his fingers still cold like frost, soothing away what little ache remains.

„What do you think, to spare his favorite son the shame of having to bed the monster you tell your children about at night?“

„No,“ Thor says on a gasp. He keeps one hand fisted in Loki’s hair and cups his chin with the other, bringing their faces so close together their lips almost touch. „Balder is but a boy,“ he murmurs against Loki’s lips. „He wouldn’t have an inkling of what to do with a wicked minx like you.“

„But you do,“ Loki whispers, right before Thor kisses him.

There is no need for Thor to demand entrance, Loki’s mouth opens for him at the first wet stroke against his lips. They spar for dominance in a slick slide of tongues, Thor nipping at Loki’s lower lip only to have his eager and rough caresses gentled by a soft stroke of Loki’s tongue against his own.

„So tell me, husband mine,“ Loki murmurs after they part for air, taking one of Thor’s hands and guiding it down between his legs. „Do you fuck as gloriously as you fight? Because there also is the matter of an heir and as it seems, my time of heat has come early.“

Thor moans at the wetness he feels there, slicking not only Loki’s inner thighs but also dampening the length of elaborately patterned silk Loki wears wrapped around hips instead of the Jotuns’ customary loincloth. The length of Loki’s cock is hard against Thor’s wrist, large and already sticky with his pre-spending, but when Thor strokes lower his fingers meet the wet folds of a woman’s sex instead of the smooth expanse of skin he expects to find there.

Loki laughs at him, mirth glittering in those strange red eyes. Thor’s open bewilderment seems to delight him, and if it were not for his hard prick leaking into his breeches Thor would tell him to cease it this instant. Instead he strokes a finger through the split of skin between Loki’s thighs until he finds a familiar little nub, taking great satisfaction in the way his touch there turns Loki’s chuckle into a breathy moan.

„By the Norns, what _are_ you,“ Thor asks, taking Loki’s mouth in another rough kiss. Loki rolls his hips, steadying himself with a hand on Thor’s shoulders and moaning softly into Thor’s mouth with every stroke of Thor’s fingers.

„You _really_ don’t know anything, you damn fool,“ Loki says, but his words hold no bite. „Have you never wondered where our women are? Jotun have no need for different genders, we all have the ability of childbearing and some of us even go through periods of heightened fertility to ensure the continuity of our race.“

„Is that what you meant with your time of heat,“ Thor asks. His mind is whirling. Thor has never been one for books, but he does not think that what Loki just revealed can be found in the vast palace library. Already it doesn’t feel so strange anymore, Loki’s exotic beauty and the familiar feeling of his fingers buried in a wet cunt chasing away his initial surprise and uneasiness. „Is it the reason why you seemed so restless earlier?“

„So you do notice some things,“ Loki says, covering Thor’s hand with his own. Thor follows his guidance, slides two fingers in deep and swears when he is rewarded with a trickle of wetness. „During heat my body is ready to conceive and to ensure that I will not be able to say no to anyone with his balls full of seed. I had hoped by the time my heat came you would have taken your head out of your arse, but as it came unexpectedly early today it was either let every man in the dining hall mount me right on that table or make you see reason.“

„I see your reason quite well,“ Thor bites out, spreading his fingers and pressing down on that little nub with his thumb. Loki goes rigid against him with a cry, his cunt tightening around Thor’s fingers and his thighs locking to keep Thor’s hand trapped. „We will have words about how we both can benefit from this marriage, but for now I will be content to sink my prick into that tight cunt of yours.“

Thor is grateful that he didn’t choose to wear his armor tonight, his ruined tunic lost in matter of mere seconds. Loki tries to help with the laces of his breeches, but his heat or whatever fever this is seems to get worse and is making his touch heavy-handed and more teasing than helping the matter. Loki’s single garment is ripped off with a careless flick of Thor’s wrist.

Loki lies back against the silken sheets, arranging himself neatly against the mounds of pillows with his legs spread wide as if he senses that Thor has no taste for bashfulness in the bedroom. By Hel, Thor has bedded hundreds of women and men in all the nine realms, but still Loki is the most alluring creature he has ever seen. Dark strands of hair are spilling over his shoulder until they meet the rings that pierce his nipples, emeralds and rubies adorning the golden hoops that are linked with a thin golden chain. His body is slender but strong, the dusky blue skin covered with thin raised lines that Thor can’t wait to taste. There seems to be no hair covering his body, his hard, wet cock curving up against a belly that is just as hairless as his cunt.

Thor kneels, spreading Loki’s legs to make room for himself. The inside of Loki’s thighs is damp under his hands, glistening wet just like the folds between his legs. Thor’s cock is hard, thick drops of seed leaking heavily over his fingers when he takes himself in hand to quell the urgent need to simply rut into Loki. He intends to have Loki again and again tonight, to show him just how gloriously the God of Thunder fucks, but first— first he needs to taste him.

„Lick me,“ Loki hisses impatiently, parting the plump folds of his cunt with two fingers and guiding Thor with a hand firmly on the back on his head. Thor chuckles, pleased at Loki’s eagerness, and bends down willingly. This close the smell of him is almost overwhelming, not much different from the familiar smell of a woman’s arousal and Thor’s wonders how he didn’t notice it before. He goes slowly, savoring the salty taste of the slickness under his tongue. Parting the labia with just the stiff tip of his tongue he teases Loki with slow strokes, every one of them ending with a firm lick to his clit until Loki can’t hold back his cries of pleasure.

„Don’t hold back,“ Thor commands. „I want everybody to hear you, how much you enjoy to be taken by me.“

„I will, if we ever get to that,“ Loki laughs breathlessly, moving his hips impatiently, his face flushed and his eyes bright.

Thor knows a challenge when hears one. He lashes Loki’s clit with his tongue until he shudders and writhes against Thor’s mouth and sinks two fingers deep into Loki’s cunt the same moment he comes with a breathless gasp. Thor fingers him through his climax and marvels at the heat that grasps him, so different from Loki’s skin that is still cool to his touch. Loki’s back bows sharply when Thor strokes a thumb over his outer labia, so soft and hairless. His thighs are shaking where they cradle Thor’s head, and it is only his increasingly frantic moans of _oh, oh…_ and the wetness that hits his brow that make Thor aware that Loki just climaxed again. Looking up at him is almost Thor’s own undoing. Loki is breathing harshly, eyes closed and chest heaving, and he is trailing the hand that isn’t in Thor’s hair through the stickiness on his belly, his cock now spent and already softening.

Thor cannot help but surge up to taste him. It’s not an act he performs often, his trysts with men usually brief affairs of simple rutting between warriors in the lonely nights of war. But here, surrounded by Loki’s smell and taste and _want_ , sliding his lips over the slippery crown of Loki’s cock comes as naturally to him as breathing. When he looks up Loki is watching him with half-lidded eyes, his graceful fingers plucking at a stiff nipple. Thor holds his gaze and tightens his lips, slowly suckling and laving the sensitive tip until Loki can’t bear it any longer and shoves him away with a groan. „Can’t… too sensitive,“ he says weakly, and yet his fingers stray down to where Thor’s fingers are still buried deep inside of him.

Thor feels hot, sweaty and like his skin is suddenly too small for him. Rarely his bedmates are able to keep up with his needs and stamina in the bedroom, and to have Loki like this — eager, shameless and demanding— there are so many things he wants to do to Loki, he does not know where to start.

„Move,“ Loki says breathlessly, moving his hips urgently against Thor’s hand and taking away that decision from him. The way Loki takes so much pleasure from Thor’s touch, it is humbling and terribly arousing at the same time. Thor wants — no, he needs to simply rut into him, spill himself inside and mark Loki as his, but he prides himself to be a selfless lover. He can wait a little longer if it means to see that look of wonder on Loki’s face again as he comes riding Thor’s hand.

Thor kneels up between Loki’s legs so he can move properly, curls a hand around a thigh to keep him spread and slowly moves his fingers. Loki meets him with a sensuous roll of his hips, lost in heat and already so close to coming again that he is biting down on his knuckles to stifle his desperate moans.

„Let me hear you,“ Thor growls, needing to hear those sounds, proof of Loki’s pleasure and his own prowess. But Loki screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, more muffled sounds spilling against his fist while the knuckles of the hand he has fisted in the sheets turn a light blue.

„Oh, Loki, Loki…,“ Thor says breathlessly. He is determined now and adds a third finger, fingering Loki in earnest. He is tight around Thor’s fingers, his cunt wet and hot and clenching in obvious need. Thor watches him, searching for what makes Loki bite down harder on his knuckles. He pushes in with deep strokes and curls his fingers, presses upwards until Loki finally gives in and cries out, demanding Thor to _move_ _harder_ and _more_.

This time Thor knows when Loki is ready to come, he feels it in the way his body goes taut and his inner walls tighten and release around his fingers. His own cock throbs in sympathy when Loki gasps and goes rigid, finding his pleasure with a breathless cry. The hot splash of liquid against his abdomen startles Thor, another one hitting his cheek and chin when he hastily bends down to look. Loki is keening and writhing on his hand, more albeit smaller bursts of liquid flowing over Thor’s fingers every time he presses them upwards. Thor laughs breathlessly, so full of wonder about what he just witnessed that he almost misses when Loki hisses at him.

„Out, damn you.“

Thor’s hand is dripping with Loki’s fluids. He wraps it around his cock with a groan, stroking himself with a tight grip while holding Loki’s languid gaze with his own. His own pre-spending mixes with Loki’s slickness, their combined wetness sliding down slowly and trickling over his balls. Thor brings his other hand to his abdomen and collects some of the cooling wetness there. He laps curiously at it, pleased when his own moan of enjoyment is met with Loki’s own. It tastes differently than Loki’s natural slick, almost tasteless except for a slight hint of pungency that is not unpleasant at all. His beard is wet with it and it’s that thought of having Loki all over him that finally breaks his control.

Thor slides his hands under Loki’s knees and presses into him with a single stroke, aided by their combined wetness. He breathes heavily, willing himself to hold still for a moment to let grow Loki accustomed to his girth even if his body is telling him to claim what is his.

„Don’t hold back,“ Loki says, sliding a hand in his hair. Thor's eyes slide half shut at the caress and he bends down, brushing a kiss to the corner of Loki’s mouth. „I’m not hurting you,“ he asks, and his question is met with a soft laugh, mirth glittering again in Loki’s eyes.

„I may be a runt, but I’m still a frost giant. I’ve lain with my people for most of my life, so not even a prick as impressive as yours is a novelty to me.“

Images of Loki spreading himself for frost giants thrice his size flash in Thor’s mind, making his blood boil, the thought of _his husband_ taken like this unbearable. He barely has the mind to steady himself with a hand on the bed before he thrusts in hard, lifting Loki’s hips with a hand at the small of his back. Loki’s legs wind around his hips, but Thor barely notices it, lost in a haze of _mine_ and the fierce need to mark Loki as his. He takes him roughly, holds Loki’s hips steady so he can stroke into him with deep and graceless thrusts until he finally finds release, spilling himself deep inside.

Loki’s eyes are wide when Thor looks at him.

„It’s almost hot,“ Loki says, his voice full of surprise. „So warm.“ He strokes a hand down to where Thor feels himself leaking from Loki’s cunt, his prick already hardening again. Loki’s fingers are sticky with Thor’s seed and he laps at them greedily, welcoming Thor’s tongue with his own when bends down to share the taste. They kiss around Loki’s fingers, lapping their combined fluids from them hungrily. Loki’s eyes are closed and he is humming as if he is enjoying a sweet delicacy. His shameless pleasure at the act is enough to bring Thor to full arousal again.

This time he fucks Loki almost leisurely, the feeling of his cock moving in his own seed enough to appease his need for claiming Loki as his. Loki moves restlessly under him, stroking his cock in time to Thor’s slow thrusts. Thor does not know how long their coupling lasts, but Loki climaxes twice before Thor spills inside him for the second time. Loki does not move when Thor pulls out, just lays there with his eyes closed, looking sleepy and satisfied. A small wave of his hands returns the soaked sheets under him back to their pristine state, but he does not clean himself or Thor, obviously enjoying the way Thor’s seed slowly leaks out of his flushed cunt.

A small smile curves Loki’s thin lips when he looks at Thor. Thor feels his heart beat faster at the sight of Loki’s debauchery and utter satisfaction, his chest clenching with what has to be pride at bringing Loki to such a state.

„I chose well,“ is all that Loki says before he rolls to the side with a content sigh. Thor is unsure if it means that he is dismissed, but he feels daring and fits himself to Loki’s back, kissing his shoulder in what he suspects is a budding feeling of adoration and affection. Loki huffs tiredly, but he turns his head to accept a kiss on his lips.

Thor falls asleep to Loki’s soft breathing and the feeling of his hand on Loki’s belly, the stickiness there a reminder of what they just shared. There is no love between them, not yet. But now that there is lust and want and a mutual understanding, love will maybe come in time.

**Author's Note:**

> Odin's life just got a lot harder. Serves him right.
> 
> I blame all this filth on various twitter conversations. As somebody with a profound love for filth and all kind of bodily secretions I regret nothing, but I apologize for hand-wavey Shakespear-style porn.
> 
> Written for my bodily secretions square for Kink Bingo. Duh.


End file.
